


What Old Friends Can Do

by WolfjawsWriter



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15400686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfjawsWriter/pseuds/WolfjawsWriter
Summary: Lucy doesn't like to remember her past before Lockwood and Co. Its way too painful and sad, besides, there's not need to look back on it, right?Wrong. Now her past seeks to enter her present in a non-pleasant way, and, honestly, what better way to deal with terrible-past-evil than to bring back into her life one of the non-so-terrible things that still remain from her childhood.





	1. Stories from Our Past

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is made with the sole purposes of dealing and possibly kill Writer's Block and using an OC I've had in my mind for a while now, so it may be a little crappy and trashy. READ UNDER YOUR OWN CONSCIENCE.

“And don’t come back!” 

The door shot closed behind us.

Not even a day in business and already we had been kicked out of the inn.

 

It had come as a surprise to me when we received a call from a certain Mr Oscar Weatherall asking for our help, because, for one, I once knew a man called Oscar Weatherall, and second he was from my old hometown, Cheviot Hills.

When George explained this I was out of my mind. What about Jacobs Agency?! Couldn’t they deal with this? After my little emotional outburst, George told us how the man explained that agent Jacobs was not working anymore, and that, in fact, Jacobs Agency was now out of business. Ideal.

The thought of having to go back to my hometown was distressing to say the least: I knew that I’d probably encounter my mom or my sisters if I went, and I didn’t had anything against meeting Mary again, but the rest I was not okay with! However, Mary wasn’t living there anymore, just like most of my sisters, or so I’m told.

 

“Great” George grumbled. We had decided to stay in The Firefly Inn, one of the best in town. The owners had asked us to take care of a ghost that had been terrorizing their guests and workers, so we decided to do this before going with Mr Weatherall. However, things kind of went downhill: the ghost turned out to be a Sreaming Spirit that truly wanted to find her lost children, if her constant “MY CHILDREN!” shrieking was anything to go by. Lets just say that not all property survived the chase, even though we managed to seal the source. 

 

_“Well, that was fun, you sure did a fool of yourselves in front of your client”_

 

“Now what?”

 

“We look for another place to stay” The innkeeper was mad about the broken things, and so kicked us out. Lockwood had initially insisted that we stayed at my mother’s house, but I had soundly refused. I am not getting myself, or my friends for that matter, close to that woman.

 

“Lucy” Holly looked at me with a sad expression “Where else can we stay?” I knew what she meant. They all looked at me. I was the only one who knew its way around town, since I had grown up here, but I wasn’t about to take a step in the direction of that house. My thoughts reeled inside my head as their stares bore holes in me, but then I suddenly knew-

 

“I know where we can stay” I said as I picked up my rucksack “Its not that far from here” 

 

We started walking down the street and towards a more homey area, with me leading the way, Lockwood behind me, George, Holly and Kipps at last. We were now surrounded by tall houses, spacious terrains and nice villagy-looking-stores. I knew my way around the place; I had walked these streets many times in the past, and it didn’t took me long to find the house we were looking for.

It was a big and long house, with only two stories. It had many windows, most of which were closed with curtains, and a long chimney that protruded from the roof. To my relief, I could see some lights were on inside.

I walked up to the door and knocked loudly on the heavy wood it was made of, the sound echoing on the cloudy darkness of the night. A shuffling was heard from somewhere inside the place, and then a soft thudding before the door opened.

 

“Well, look at what the visitors dragged in” A voice said and I smiled.

 

“Hi Ethan” The boy that stood before us moved aside so we could enter and closed the door once all of us were inside.

 

“Next time you decide to drop by, Lu, why don’t you bring Penelope Fittes along with you, that would be quite the surprise” He turned back to me, walking over to where I stood. He hadn’t changed much; there was still a limping in his walking, from his right leg I knew, his gashed face that constantly held a tired happiness, with features so relaxed he seemed to be constantly dozing off. His long mop of light brown hair that curled around him and his sarcastically charming personality.

 

“I’m sorry we appeared this way, but we’re here on a job” I said.

 

“And you weren’t planning on stopping by to say hi? Ok” He smiled “So who are they, Lulu?” I looked at the others to find them staring between me and Ethan.

 

“Oh right! Sorry, this is Lockwood, George, Holly and Kipps” He shook their hands hospitably with a smile and softly kissed Holly’s hand “and, the skull” I took out the jar from my rucksack and held it up in my arms. 

 

“Lucy!” Holly hissed beside me “I don’t think you should-”

 

“Well, Lulu, I must say they do match their descriptions” Ethan’s deep voice interrupted Holly’s hiss “I’m glad I finally got to meet them” The others looked at me, confused, many with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Guys, this is Ethan Blackstock. He is a friend of my childhood”

 

“Come, lets get some tea” He walked/limped away on the hallway and we followed, looking around the place’s walls; the decoration was minimal, an ocasional painting or a vase on a small table, for books took most of the space. Books and books and books and books; on the tables, on the floor, in stacks and alone, under the vases and over them, it was all full of books. We entered the living room to find it crowded with even more books.

 

“Sorry for the mess, I don’t get any guests now days” Ethan said as he carried the books off the couches. We sat down on them and found they were quite comfy, I must say, for having supported that many books. Lockwood sat beside me with his arm around my shoulders on the shorter couch, and George, Holly and Kipps on the other. Ethan walked back in with a tray, a teapot, cups and biscuits balanced on top.

He placed it on the coffee table and turned a little sideways, and I noticed he was panting.

 

“I’m…sorry” He huffed with a hand on his chest. Damn it, I forgot his condition! “I don’t usually…move around…this much”

 

“Let me do that for you” I said as I started serving the tea and passing it around for the others.

 

“Thanks, Lu” He dropped himself unceremoniously on an armchair in front of us and accepted a cup when I gave it to him.

 

“Thanks for receiving us, Mr Blackstock” Lockwood said as he straightened, placing the cup on his knee “We are in debt with you”

 

“Oh, it is nothing” Ethan replied, now having regained his breathe “A friend of Lulu is always welcome at my house, and please, just Ethan, no formalities”

 

“So, how do you know each other?” Holly asked.

 

“We both used to work for agent Jacobs” I said “And we both stopped working for him around the same time”

 

“The good ol’ days, weren’t they?” Ethan rolled his eyes as he spoke and looked at the skull, which I had placed on the table “So this is the little bugger I’ve read so much about, Lu?”

 

“Yep, that’s him”

 

_“What?!”_ The skull’s face suddenly appeared inside the jar, and propped its ugly self against the glass, glaring at me accusingly _“Are you telling everyone about me now?! I thought you wanted to keep me a secret! I thought I was special!”_

 

“He knows?” Lockwood asked me, so I ignored the skull.

 

“Yes, I told Ethan about you guys on my letters” I knew by the look he gave me, that I was due to give quite some explanations _(since no one knew I sent letters to anyone)_ , but not right now.

 

“What happened to you?” George, who had been thankfully silent the whole encounter, blurted out pointing at Ethan. I had been fearing he would ask.

 

“George!” Holly scolded him “You don’t ask those questions!”

 

“No, no, Holly, dear” My friend repositioned himself “I don’t have a problem with sharing my stories, but which one are you asking about? The face or the foot?”

 

“Both” George said. I knew the others had been itching to ask; honestly everyone who met Ethan did, and if this was the first time I met him then I would have also been curious as to why he had a claw mark scar across his face, a glass-ball instead of an eye and a limp on one leg, but I knew the stories. I had been there on one of them.

 

“They are long stories, but I suppose we have time, its still 12:00 after all” Ethan drank from his cup and pondered on the events of the past “I guess I better tell them on order. Well then, the first one was the eye, and actually, you were there Lu!”

 

“Yeah I was” I shuddered at the memory of that night; it had been a gory evening, let me tell you, but Ethan had never shown any discomfort at the memory of it since as long I have known him.

 

“Oh yes, I remember that night” He smiled fondly at the thoughts “You were just a brat back then” He laughed warmly “Just a ten-year-old, tiny and moody brat”

 

“Seems like you haven’t changed much Luce” George commented, smirking at me.

 

“Oh you should have seen her” Ethan continued “Always ready to follow Mr Jacobs’ orders. But anyways, that night we had a case in Mr Timperley’s barn; a Shining Boy that had been tormenting the sheep and cows, if I’m not wrong. It was agent Jacobs, Lucy, Godric Swales, Hanna Pummill and myself that night. I was the oldest agent after Mr Jacobs, Hanna and Lucy were the youngest, weren’t you, Lucy?”

 

“Yes; Godric had a couple months more than us”

 

“Anyways, it was a fairly easy job, didn’t took us more than one hour to solve it really, but that wasn’t the fun part. The thing was, the Shining Boy wasn’t the only thing that had been terrorizing the animals; it had been a pack of wolves”

 

“Oh god” I heard Holly whisper somewhere beside me. My mind was absorbed on the story, my thoughts replaying the events of that night. It happened every time I heard someone tell it.

 

“Mr Jacobs and Godric had just left to tell the Timperleys their barn was free of ghosts, and left us in the barn collecting the things, and we didn’t noticed the wolves approaching. They had come to eat the sheep, but of course, what’s a sheep compared to three little, sweaty and fear-ridden children? We only noticed them once the wolves were already inside the barn, since the sheep were acting worse than when the ghost was there, and suddenly we were surrounded by these enormous grey wolves, you remember Lu?”

 

“How could I forget” The image was forged in me “Those things were so nasty, I don’t think I’ll ever forget them”

 

“Yeah, they were nasty, flea-bitten and slobbery. Of course, they immediately took interest in us, and we weren’t close enough to the door as to make a run for it, so I pushed Lucy and Hanna behind me and threw some flares at the beasts; some of them caught fire but most were able to avoid them. Before we ran out of flares, the alpha stalked forward and jumped. He would have actually landed directly on Lucy if I hadn’t thrown myself at him” What?! That bit of the story was never revealed to me! I always thought the wolf jumped directly for Ethan!

 

“You never told me that…” I whispered and felt Lockwood’s arm tightened around me. Ethan smiled warmly.

 

“You didn’t need to know. I rolled on the ground and ended with the wolf on top of me; his paws were giant, so I couldn’t really move. He bit me on the shoulder, left quite a nice mark” And to prove he moved his shirt’s neck to the side, showing his broad shoulder, where, sure enough, a horrible scar of teeth marks was visible “Though, I still had my rapier, so I tried to attack him back. It didn’t made much against him, only managed to enrage him more, and so, he clawed at my face, taking my eye out in the process”

 

Holly visibly shuddered with a hand to her chest, but George looked fascinated with Ethan’s glass-ball that made up for the missing eye. Kipps looked like he was going to be sick, and Lockwood was quite pale beside me, probably imagining a mini me paralyzed and scared to death looking at a younger version of Ethan battling a big bad wolf. And possibly imagining a million scenarios in which we didn’t come out alive. And thanking none of them were real.

 

“He was probably going to try to do worse, but fortunately, Lu here threw a flare at him. That made the wolf jump back, which gave me time to stand. I took another flare and threw it at the wolves on the door, and opened a space for us to run away. I carried Lu on one arm and took Hanna’s hand on the other and darted out of the barn, the remaining wolves followed us out. The house was thankfully not too far, and Mr Timperley heard the wolves howling inside the barn, so when we ran outside he was already coming with his shotgun and shoot at the beasts. That got them to stop following us. Mr. Timperley chased them back into the woods, at least those who survived the flares and the shots” He sighted softly “We were all taken to the hospital immediately, but I was the only one with mayor injuries. There was, however, nothing the doctors could do about my eye, so they took the eye-chord out and gave me this” He pointed to the ball that took the place of his eye.

 

“Is it glass?” George asked.

 

“Silver-glass. Comes handy when walking outside at night” Ethan smiled softly as he touched it with a finger “Agent Jacobs had been very doubtful of letting me get back to work. How was I supposed to help if I could only see half the room I was in? It took a while to get used to but in the end I was able to perform agent duty without a problem and went back to work. At least for some time, that is”

 

“…Ethan” Holly’s voice was no more than a horrified whisper, her mind obviously still engrossed on the images the story caused “That’s so terrible, I’m so sorry for what happened to you”

 

“Oh, don’t be” He replied “I still look decent enough for the ladies” I snickered quietly.

 

“Then, what happened to your foot?” George pressed.

 

“You don’t have to tell us” Lockwood said, speaking for the first time since the wolves story began in a rather harsh way “We don’t wish to bother you” He looked accusingly at George, who merely shrugged.

 

“Oh, as I said, I don’t have a problem with sharing my stories” Ethan chuckled “They are not things I am embarrassed of, nor are they private. No, they are things better shared” Refilling his cup with tea, he looked up momentarily and scratched his chin, in which he had a very light stubble “Yes, for this story we have to go three years back, I believe. A month before Lucy left. It was the first time agent Jacobs decided to split the night’s team into different jobs without having a supervisor for each team”

 

“I was with Mr Jacobs and Dottie Gillingham” I remembered that night as another very fateful one, even though I hadn’t been present in the disaster, the moment in which I entered the agency after work and got the gruesome news told to me was like fresh concrete.

 

“Remember how frightened Dottie was after Mr Jacobs said Rowan and I were going on our own to a different case?” Ethan and I laughed as the memory of the little girl in blond curls, flapping her hands, hyperventilating and stuttering came back to our minds “ _‘Bu-but, Mr Jacobs! the-the-they can’t po-po-possibly go on the-their own!’_ ” The others laughed as well, all memory of the last story forgotten as we looked at my friend flap his hands around his face, breathing harshly and pitching his voice at least an eighth higher.

 

“Had she flapped her hands any harder she’d probably blown us away”

 

“I swear that girl was made for flying!” Ethan cleaned his eye of the tears that came due to laughing, then repositioned himself.

 

“What was of her?” I asked, since last time I came I didn’t bother much in visiting my old friends and companions, specially in case any of them wanted to tell me anything regarding the Wythburn Mill incident. I only saw Ethan that time because we stumbled on each other’s path at the market, then, after briefly catching up, decided to start sending each other letters.

 

“Right now? She’s married to Rowan” Ethan said.

 

“No!”

 

“Yes. They live in 78 Pied Pony Road, I think they’re expecting their first child” Again, Ethan scratched his chin, deep in thought “Or maybe its already born, I don’t know, I don’t really go out of this house anymore. For all I know, they may be having the third one already!” He took a long sip of tea “Then again, what was I saying? Oh yes! I was telling you about the case of the Maiden in The Ruins”

 

“The case of the ‘Maiden in The Ruins’?” Quill asked, now having regained his natural color and ginger charm “That doesn’t sound like any case names I’ve heard, and I heard a lot”

 

“And you probably will never hear another case like this” Ethan assured “Not unless supervisors in London are any more morons than the ones here, but I doubt that’s possible. However, the case should have been easy enough for both Rowan and me, it was just a Cold Maiden and we were perfectly capable agents, the thing was the house” He made a slight pause to drink more tea “The house in which we had to work was one rapier-fling away from falling apart”

 

“What?” Lockwood asked quizzical “But its part of the rules for a proper haunting ‘Always make sure the haunting ground is secure for working conditions’, if the place was so close to falling apart, then you shouldn’t have done it”

 

“Yeah, we shouldn’t, but we didn’t had any option” Ethan nodded “Agent Jacobs would have had our heads on a stick if we didn’t seal that ghost. But anyways, we entered the place, very careful as to not breathe in the wrong direction, and we found the ghost in one of the upper rooms. The whole operation was going marvelously and it would have stayed like that if the source hadn’t been inside a wall. Rowan tried to make a hole in it so he could seal the source but not bring the wall down while I kept the ghost at bay, but it was taking too much time so I threw a flare on the ghost and flung myself into the wall, which brought it entirely down” Another pause “This was both good and bad: good because the source was now visible and Rowan could seal it. Bad because the wall fell on top of me and my foot got caught in the debris, and the ghost had reformed pretty fast, so just before the source was sealed, it managed to touch the tip of my foot which was trapped”

 

I looked at the others once more. This story didn’t had the same effect on them as the last one had, at least not still. George’s glasses were gleaming with cat’s curiosity, Holly was nursing another cup of tea in her hands, taking small sips. Quill and Lockwood listened intently. This were things that didn’t usually happened to agents, specially not in London where supervisors made sure that everything went carefully as planned.

 

“This of course led to inevitable ghost-touch, and with the crumbled wall, the house was now literally falling apart; the wood in the other walls were starting to bend and the windows to break. I told Rowan to get out with the source; the ghost-touch was already spreading through my lower calf and my foot was stuck, I wouldn’t make it out. But Rowan refused and decided to risk the whole operation. He took his rapier and drove it down my leg. Cut it right under the knee” We all shivered at the thought of using our rapiers for such thing and at the pain Ethan must have felt in that moment. 

 

To prove his point, Ethan rose his right leg, which had no shoe. In fact, there was no foot: under his long slacks you could see the metal bar’s tip coming out. He removed his pant to show the rest of the prothesis he wore, the long metal piece that then disappeared under a sock and were his real leg and knee started.

 

“Took a few blows, but he managed to complete chop it down, which stopped the ghost-touch from spreading any further than it should. He wrapped my stump in cloth as best as he could, then helped me limp out of the house. When we got out the house fell down completely, but the sound woke the neighbors, who called for an ambulance” He smiled fondly once more “Of course, there was no other thing to do than to try and salvage what could be saved from my leg, but besides that and getting a prothetic leg, there was nothing that could be done to save it”

 

“Must have taken a while before you could go back to work” George said genuinely sounding sympathetic, to which Ethan smiled.

 

“Nop. After this incident, agent Jacobs didn’t allow me to go back at all, not even for table work. Said he couldn’t ‘afford to have a cripple in the company’” He sighed “One month later, Wythburn Mill incident happens, eight agents die and Lulu leaves for London. That’s pretty much the end of the good stories around here”

 

“Those are pretty cool stories” George commented “With pretty cool scars to go with them. Whenever we have had cool adventures like that, the most we come out with are bruises”

 

“I know” Ethan smiled devilish “My scars are pretty cool, aren’t they? Oh my! Look at the time! Its 1:40 and I’m still talking about myself! I should show you guys to your rooms”

 

“Are you sure your family doesn’t mind us staying here, Ethan?” Holly asked as we all stood up.

 

“Holly, dear, if any of my family were still around, the house wouldn’t be a mess” He answered and led us to the stairs. It took a moment to get to the second floor since Ethan had to limp all the way up. Even with the prosthetic, I knew he never really got used to it and that it still hurt him to press on that leg too much.

The upper floor had a small living room beside the stairs and a long hallways that extended between the rooms.

 

“There should be enough bedrooms for all of us, but ignore the second room to the right”

 

“Oh, not you as well!” I exclaimed “Are you hiding some ghost in there or something?”

 

“The only thing I’m hiding there is the horrors of my dirty laundry” Ethan laughed “Anyway, choose whichever room you find most pleasing, they are all empty of living. If you find anything you find disturbing just leave it outside the door” And with that, he walked away and into his room.

 

We said our goodnights and each chose a room from the hall, where we all went to sleep as soon as we closed our doors.


	2. Family is a Matter Better Left Unmentioned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its not easy for anyone to talk about their past.

I don’t think it was necessary to tell how the rooms looked, since they were void of life signs. Most of them just had even more books.

 

I woke up the next morning, very confused as to why I was in a room I didn’t know, but last night’s event came all back to me. The skull had remained silent most of the night, aside from when it protested for me telling Ethan about him. Right now it was inactive inside its jar.

 

The smell of tea and bacon came from downstairs, along the sounds of voices. I dressed quickly and walked towards the sound and smells, following them across the living room in which we sat last night and to a kitchen beside it. 

It was a spacious room, with a stove and a big oven. Many pantries here and there on the walls and shelves with bowls and dishes and other kitchen utensils. There was a table in the middle of the room with many chairs around it, with Lockwood sitting on one of them while reading the newspaper. Wait, how did he get the London Times?!

George and Ethan were also there, standing beside the stove while George talked with him about this or that.

 

“Morning Luce” Lockwood said.

 

“How did you get the Times?” I asked him.

 

“I have membership” Ethan said from where he stood beside George, his hand’s busy as he chopped something on a board “How do you expect me to keep up with the real gossip? I didn’t know you could cook it like that”

 

“But its a three hour trip from London to here” I said “How did it get here so fast?” He looked back at me and made a sign with his hand.

 

“Good money gets things done, Lu” A few moments later Holly and Quill walked down and joined us, looking refreshed and rested.

 

“It is a very nice house you have, Ethan” Holly said as she helped him and George put the breakfast on the table, which, let me tell you, they got a little carried away while making; eggs and bacon, tea and coffee, home-made muffins, donuts, toast, biscuits, even chopped fruit for Holly.

 

“I’m glad you like it” Ethan said placing the last things and sitting on one of the chairs “Its a terrible mess, but habitable. Lu said you were here on a job”

 

“Yes” Lockwood said while he took some toast “Mr Weatherall called us, said he needed a ‘psychic disturbance’ disposed of and that the agency that used to work here is no longer in service”

 

“Well, he got that right” Ethan said after a forkful of egg “He is the owner of the railroad, at least Cheviot Hill’s extension, so I imagine the ghost must be there”

 

“Who’s ghost do you reckon that is?” I asked him. He scratched his chin like he had done the last night, then looked back at me.

 

“I don’t know, Lulu” He said “That railway was built at least two centuries ago, thousands could have died there during all this time, so the ghost or ghosts could be someone we knew or someone who died even before it was done”

 

“I should go to the town’s library then” George said while munching on a donut “Look for anything I can find about it”

 

“No” Ethan exclaimed “The library doesn’t exist anymore”

 

“What?” I asked.

 

“They brought it down a few months after Jacobs agency closed” He explained “Made a new party room there, I think. But don’t worry, I kept all the books they had. That’s why there’s so much books around here” Even after explaining, George looked like his donut had been snatched from his hand and stomped on.

 

“Why would they ever take a library down?!” He cried out.

 

“Most people here are idiots. No one really used the library besides the agents, but now the agency is closed and all the agents retired, so there’s no ‘need’ for a library” He took another bite of food “But all the books are here, and still divided by sections. The history one should be together still”

 

“Eep!” Holly squealed loudly as something jumped before her. That something was a cat. A big brown and black cat, that now stood on the table and eyed the food.

 

“Makayla!” Ethan stood from his chair and snatched the cat by the neck “We don’t jump on our guests” He dropped the cat on the floor, but as soon as he sat down again, the cat jumped on his lap and tried to get to his face “I ask you to excuse Makayla, Holly, she still doesn't understand what ‘good manners’ stands for”

 

“Its alright, she just surprised me” Taking a bit of bacon from his plate, he held it to the cat and looked back at us.

 

“So, we were saying about the history books. I think those are on Freya’s room”

 

“I haven’t seen Freya in a while” I said “How is she?”

 

“Gone. She married a few months back, now she lives with her husband somewhere in London, I believe. Haven’t seen her since”

 

“Is she your sister?” Holly asked.

 

“Yeah. She’s in charge of the family’s company and said she wanted to live closer to where the company was and where her darling husband works, so she moved out. Reckon she’ll be divorced in a few more months, maybe a year”

 

 

We talked some more and finished breakfast, then Lockwood said we had to meet Mr Weatherall at his house, and that when we were back Ethan could show George were all the books were. This was all dandy and nice, it was work after all, but Holly suggested she and I stayed here with Ethan rather than going to the Weatherall’s residence. It took some coaxing, but she somehow managed to convince Lockwood this was a good idea, made me write the directions on a paper and sent the boys on their way.

 

“You girls should have gone with them” Ethan said as we helped him clean the kitchen.

 

“But it wouldn’t be correct of us to leave you on your own” Holly said while placing the dishes on the cupboards “Besides, you need someone to help you”

 

“Oh! I’ve lived on my own enough time to know how to manage myself, Holly, dear” He said as he flicked the towel he was holding.

 

“What about your family? Is your sister the only other one left?” We finished cleaning the kitchen and walked to the living room where we sat down with some more tea.

 

“Now, yes, its only her and me. Remember my brother, Dante, Lu?” He asked and I smiled, taking sips of my cup.

 

“Yeah. He was the better looking brother” I scoffed and Ethan gasped.

 

“Excuse me, did you even see him?”

 

“You had a brother?” Holly asked, her cup carefully at her lips.

 

“Yes, both Freya and Dante were older, I was the family’s runt, just like Lu here”

 

“And your parents?” I looked at Ethan, concerned for what might come out of his mouth. Just like the stories of his physical scars, the story of his parents was a difficult one to tell. He, however, looked as calm as ever and kept smiling amiably and naturally, unlike Lockwood who, every time his parents or sister were mentioned, became silent, his smile strained and his manners tense. Guess I just spend too much time with Mr Secret-Keeper.

 

“Well, my parents are an interesting story” He said, got comfortable in his armchair, with Makayla in his lap and the cup on one hand “You see, they were kidnapped just two weeks after I was born”

 

“Oh God!” Holly exclaimed and placed the cup on the table “I’m so sorry, Ethan! I didn’t mean to pry-”

 

“No, no, Holly. You’re not prying. I’m as okay with sharing this as with the other stories I told you all last night” He said. Holly looked at me worriedly, to which I smiled, reassuringly. I knew this story very well. I knew Ethan didn’t minded sharing it. Everyone in town knew it, anyway.

Holly refilled her cup and adjusted her position so she was sitting more comfortably. I also refilled my cup with more warm tea and took a biscuit from the plate. Ethan was once again scratching his stubble-covered chin, deep in thought.

 

“My mother barely got time to get better from her pregnancy. The people who took them wanted my parent’s to give them a part of their fortune, but they were set on not doing that. Took six months for the police to find them, but when they did…well, for one, my father was dead” He took a sip of tea and a bite from a biscuit “Seemingly, he had been killed shorty after getting kidnapped. My mother, she was alive, however, she was not the same woman she used to be” Ethan looked at us, a certain heaviness now distinguishable in his tired eyes “She was tortured to madness. Those people thought they could convince her to give them the money if they made her suffer enough, but she refused, which drove her out of her mind. When the hospital called my grandmother to tell her about her about her recently-found daughter, she immediately took us to see her. But it wasn’t her daughter anymore” 

 

He made a pause in which I looked at Holly, to see how she was holding up. The story was just beginning, but her hand had already flew to her mouth, her eyes helplessly looking at him.

 

“She wasn’t aggressive or anything like that. She just, seemed to lost consciousness, in a way. It was like toddler inside the body of an adult. Doctors wanted to keep her in some institution, but my grandmother refused to leave her in such a place” He smiled tenderly at the memory “She was convicted that if anything could bring my mother back was the love of her family, so she stayed here with us, in this very house. Nothing brought her back though; her memories were lost, her habits, even her speech. I never heard her say a proper word, ever” A single tear dropped from Ethan’s only eye, so I stood and sat next to him, wordlessly putting an arm around him. I was suddenly very thankful Lockwood wasn’t here; I knew he wouldn’t be able to listen to this, when it came to family he wore his feelings right under his skin.

 

“Oh Ethan…”

 

“In a way, I think she still remembered or knew she was our mother” His voice had grown thin with emotion, still, he smiled sadly, his head now against my chest in a silent seek for comfort “Dante was very sickish; never went a winter without getting flu or a summer in which he wouldn’t get sick because of the heat. Spent so much time bedridden, sometimes I thought he’d forget what the rest of the world looked like. But each time he got sick, every time he couldn’t go outside, my mom would silently sit with him and not leave his side until he was better. Or when I lost my eye” A silent sob “My grandma took her to the hospital to see me the day after I went in. She refused to leave my side, sat beside my bed all day and night, watching over me, like I’d die the moment she looked away”

 

Holly refilled his cup in trembly motions, then gave it to him. He gave it a sip and nodded her thanks.

 

“Eventually she died, peacefully during her sleep. It was hard for my grandma to think that her daughter was gone without ever getting to really know her own children, but I think she’s happier now, with dad. Grandma followed her a few months after. Then it was just us, until Dante got sick again. Spent days in his room without being able to move, but in the end, he left too. Now its just Freya and me”

 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Ethan” Holly said after a few moments of silence “I shouldn’t have asked”

 

“Like I said, its nothing personal” He smiled “You could have asked anyone in Cheviot Hills, and they’d be able to tell you what happened almost as good as I did”

 

After that, Holly told us some stories about her family and from when she was a Rotwell field agent, and I told them some of mine, but soon we changed topic. Family was not something most agents were fond of talking, at least not the way Ethan was casual about it.

 

Lockwood, George and Quill were back an hour later and we were still chatting in the living room, the tea long gone cold and Makayla now asleep on my lap.

 

“What did we miss?” Lockwood asked when they entered the living room.

 

“Just some overdramatic family stories” Ethan said with his lazy smile shining “But nothing too interesting. Now, I assume you’ll want me to show you where the history books are?”

 

Holly offered to help him walk upstairs, which he accepted kindly. 

 

“Ok, let’s see” We walked after him to one of the rooms in which we slept last night “It should be somewhere around here” We spread about the room and started to look through the many copies spread and stacked inside it.

 

“Why would you keep this many books?” Quill asked as we helped look through the many covers.

 

“Couldn’t let this much knowledge go to waste, could I?” Was Ethan’s response, his body half covered with the books he was surrounded by “Besides, I’ve been using them for my research”

 

“You’re researcher?” George asked “Do you research the Problem too?”

 

“Oh, god, no!” Ethan scoffed “There are already way too much people researching that, I look for other things. Oh, it’s been years since I read this book”

 

“What could be more important than looking for a way to stop the Problem from spreading?” Quill said holding many books in his arms.

 

“Never said I wasn’t looking for that-Ah ha!” Ethan’s limping form retreated from the mount of books he had been looking through, with many volumes in his hands “Here they are” He placed them on the floor and kicked away all the books we wouldn’t need “‘Cheviot Hills’ Records’, ‘England’s Railway History’ and ‘Official Cheviot Hills’ Cemetery Documents from 1867 to 1989’. Any other book you may need should be here”

 

“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll find them”

 

We left the room so George could work peacefully, and Lockwood us explained the plan: tonight we’d go the the train station to make a surveillance, so we could find what we’d be dealing with and try to end it there and then, but in case we couldn’t take it down there, we’d go back tomorrow, better prepared and hopefully with more information than the one we’d go with today.

 

_“You finally come back”_ A voice called me inside my head as I entered the room I slept in _“I’ve been bored out of my mind all morning!”_

 

The skull’s jar was sitting on top of a pile of books I hadn’t bothered to read the cover’s of.

 

“What do you want?”

 

_“What have you been telling that_ cripple _about me?”_

 

“Don’t call him a cripple” My voice lowered into a venomous whisper as I took the jar in my hands “He has a name and you better call him that if you don’t want me to ignore you for the rest of the trip”

 

_“Whatever, he is an interesting one”_ The skull’s ugly face was now propped against the source, its cheek plastered against it _“I’m actually jealous. How he got those scars, very gruesome stories. What I wouldn’t give to have been there or live something like that myself!”_

 

“Why would you want that?”

 

_“Its better than being dead, Lucy. So what’s the plan? Are we going to use him as a bait to draw the ghost out then finish it? Or are you planning on actually feeding him to the ghost and then sealing it?”_

 

“We are not using Ethan as any of that! He won’t be coming to the case”

 

_“What a shame! I thought that that was the reason you chose to bring the others here, he would make a very easy prey for a ghost; unable to run, probably a year away from losing his Talent. I must say, he has an impressive amount of Talent for someone so close to the age of losing it”_

 

“Yes, he always had an impressing Touch. Could pin point the exact location of a source only by Touching and getting echoes of the past”

 

“Hey Lucy?” I heard a knock on the door as well as someone calling me. The door opened and Lockwood walked in.

 

_“Oh no! We are having a conversation here, no Lockwoods allowed!”_

 

“Shut up” I closed the jar’s lever and basked in the feeling of seeing it get angry and not be able to rant with me about it.

 

“I’m an interrupting something?” Lockwood asked hesitantly.

 

“No, no. We were just finishing” We ignored the skull as it kept furiously swimming around its ectoplasm. 

 

“You think it’d be wrong if I sat on the books?” Lockwood asked, his finger pointing to the giant stack that was in front the bed.

 

“I don’t think so, but I think its better not to find out” I patted the space beside me in the bed and so he sat there. We stayed silent for a moment, waiting for the other to say something.

 

“It is a very nice house Ethan has” He said in an attempt to break the silence “I’m happy you trust us with this part of your past”

 

“Couldn’t keep it hidden for long” I said.

 

“You never told us about that ‘wolf incident’” He said silently.

 

“The case of the Boy in the Wolf Barn? I wasn’t the star of that incident”

 

“But you were still there” Lockwood’s eyes were kept away from me, yet a certain vulnerability could be seen in them “You could have died that night. If he hadn’t protected you, you would not be here”

 

“But I didn’t die” I whispered, my hand coming to his.

 

“And for that I’m grateful” He said, his eyes finally meeting mine “I couldn’t thank Ethan enough for that”

 

 

The rest of the day was spent preparing for our case in the station. George spent most of the afternoon reading as much as he could of the books Ethan gave him. Lockwood and Quill practiced rapier with Holly and I readied our supplies, making sure we’d have enough salt bombs, flares, iron fillings and that our chains were fit for tonight. Ethan spent the day helping me, so we talked all day long, still retelling some experiences and I told him about some of our best cases back in London, like Combe Carey Hall, or the Bickerstaff ghost, the Chelsea Outbreak and from the time I freelanced.

Time went faster than I expected and soon it was time for us to leave for the station. With our sacks ready, our thermos full with tea and George’s compelled information, we were more than ready to leave.

 

“Lucy…” A hand stopped me from walking out the door. I looked back at Ethan, who for the first time in our visit wasn’t smiling lazily like he always did “The station…its close to the woods”

 

“We know” He didn’t need to tell me what was concerning him, it was concerning us both, but we had chose not to mention it. Now, though, I had been feeling like it should be brought up “We’ll be careful”

 

“Just…beware of the wolves”


	3. Call of a Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The howling is the sign

The train station in Cheviot Hills was a metal roof with four wooden post supporting it compared to the ones in London, not literally, but compared yes. Its was a small building besides the rails, just big enough for a few people to be in it with the ticker-seller. The walls were water-stained and lacked a good coat of paint. The rails outside were old and rusted and cracked and squeaked whenever a train got near. There was a cabin beside it where all the train-maintenance equipment was kept. And it was all just a few meters outside the woods.

 

We’d have to survey the station, the cabin and as much rail as we could, which was dangerous due to the fact that it’s be done outside.

 

“Alright, lets get started” Lockwood was in excellent spirits, practically jumping with emotion, though, wether it was because of the case or the fact that I’d pointed out a few places I knew from my childhood as we came, I wasn't sure. Either way, he was in the zone right now.

 

_“Out in the open?”_ A voice sneered from my rucksack _“I guess you all want to die tonight, or you’d remember how dangerous it is. Well, all the more entertainment for me!”_

 

“We should probably divide in teams” Lockwood said “We would cover more terrain that way. But first and foremost, George, take it away”

 

“Well” He took his notes out, and by notes I mean the whole stack of papers in which he wrote, and we all took a seat on a table inside the station “What Ethan said was true; the initial rail was built over two centuries ago, though Cheviot Hills’ extension wasn’t placed until 50 years later, due to a shortage of materials. I looked on the death records from that time and on, and, like he said as well, thousands of people have died on this rails and station, so our ghost could be anywhere from this buildings to the tunnel 15 miles from here. Though, there are some people I suspect could be our ghost” From his stack of papers he produced three photographs “First, Romeo Ainsworth: worked as train driver until just two years ago. Got fired for not preventing his shipment-train from getting sacked by bandits, so, during his last day, he derailed the passengers-train he was taking from London to Cambridge, right outside this town. It was quite a fireworks display from what I can tell, killed more than fifty people”

 

“How was he supposed to prevent the train from getting sacked?” I asked.

 

“Guess they expected him to die heroically while trying to save the merchandise, or something like that” George said, his hands fumbling with another photo “Next up, we have Henry Frost. Kidnapped and taken to the rail where he was tied up and left for dead by his kidnapper. Train went right over him, reckon the animals ate what was left of him”

 

“George please” Holly breathed, highly disturbed “We don’t need that kind of details”

 

“And last on the list, Beatrice Howcroft. Lived here with her kids and husband, worked as a seamstress, a decent woman by what the records say. Until her children got too excited when a train was arriving to the station and jumped on the rails. Both dead. Strangled her husband in her tantrum and regretted it just after finishing him, then suicided somewhere in this station” He placed the photos back on the stack “Those are my strongest suspects”

 

“Sounds like could be in for something too small or too big” Quill said sipping from his cup.

 

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do” Lockwood said munching on a biscuit “George, Holly and I will take the station and the supplies cabin, plus some of the rail. We’ll survey the area constantly in case any ghost appears. Lucy, Quill, you guys take the skull and look around the rest of the rail. Seems like the most gruesome ones may be there, but being in the open should make it easier for the skull to detect them”

 

We finished our tea, picked our stuff and got on our way. Quill placed his googles on and I left my sack a little opened so the skull could peek around.

 

_“Uuh, look around the scenery”_ The skull said in my ear _“Isn’t it wonderful? Just outside town, close enough to the woods, walking by the railroad, looking for ghosts. What could ever be better? I must say, wouldn’t it be just fantastic to die in such a beautiful night, ghost-touched under the glamour of full moon. So shakespearian!”_

 

“Be thankful there are no trains working at night, or I’d leave you on the rail to be squashed by one of them” I threatened. However, his words planted on my head like a weed seed and rooted within my thoughts. We were outside, and very close to the woods, and the moon was full. 

 

“Nothing still?” Quill asked me.

 

“Nothing more than bad shakespearian poetry about death” I answered. We took readings every few meters, noting how all the readings we took had different degrees of cold. 

 

“11 more miles to cover” Quill said as he was took count of how much we advanced. Ghost-fog had started to appear all around our ankles, soft enough to mean that any apparitions would take their time appearing. Slight miasma was starting to be noticeable. However, there was no sounds, not even psychic ones.

 

_“You know”_ The skull started talking again _“We could really use a human bait right now”_

 

“No”

 

_“But it’d attract the ghosts! If I were free and was being offered a useless and helpless human as a sacrifice in order for an apparition, I wouldn’t hesitate in making myself clear”_

 

“Well, we aren’t sacrificing anyone” I growled irritably “Keep suggesting that and I’ll put you in Ethan’s cat sand box”

 

_“He has a cat?”_ He exclaimed mockingly _“Only grandmas have cats, is he that much of a loser?”_

 

“Keep it up and you’ll see what I have the cat do”

 

We kept walking beside the rail, the signs of ghost steadily growing more prominent, however, I’m not sure if it was that why I was feeling so tetchy. Something about this whole case kept bugging me in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t pin point what it was. Something in the air, the way hooted, or in the way the far-away trees moved, or our walking, each time farther from the town and closer to the tunnel and all that that was surrounding it.

 

“Its getting foggier” Quill noted “But still no apparitions”

 

_“Not for long”_

 

_‘Chucu-chucu-chucu-chucu-chucu’_ The sound of movement reached my inner ears very faintly. Softer than a whisper but steady.

 

“I hear something”

 

“The fog has risen”

 

_‘Chucu-chucu-chucu-chucu’_ The sound of coal engines in operation _‘Puff puff puff puff’_ Smoke being released, all uniformly in movement, perfectly unison. Coming towards us.

 

“Look” Quill’s hand pointed to where the rail disappeared on the fog in front of us. The sound was coming from there. The miasma and creeping fear spiked to sky levels inside us. My mind told me to reach for my rapier in my belt, but my body was frozen, ghost-lock keeping me and Quill in the position we were.

 

_“Chuuuuuuuchuuuuuuuuuuuu”_ The whistle of a train echoed loudly on my ears, my brain begging me to put my hands on them to block the sound. At our feet, we felt like the ground shook, ever so softly at first, getting stronger and stronger around us until I felt we would loose our balance. Then, my blood ran cold.

 

_‘ARRROOOOOOOOO’_

 

Suddenly I wasn’t with Quill anymore. I wasn’t standing beside a railroad any longer.

I was in a barn. The moon was full outside. I was surrounded by wolves. All around me there was howling _‘Arooooo’ ‘Arooooo’ ‘Arooooo’_ And barking _‘Worf! Worf! Worf!’_ And growling and yelling _‘Lucy!’_ Flares were thrown here and there, explosions of green and whining all over. _‘Lucy!’_ Before me, a figure was pushed to the ground by something big and furry. Everything smelled of sweat and smoke _‘Lucy!’_ I swirled with the smells and sounds. I couldn’t see anything clearly _‘Lucy!’_ A face cleared in the vortex of sensations. It was scared. It was gashed. Bleeding. It needed help-

 

“Lucy!”

 

_‘-Chuuuuuuuuuuu’_ I was pushed to the ground when an enormous locomotive jumped from the rail. The massive engine flew a few feet, then, just before it crashed, it disappeared. I, however, was still thinking about what happened before that.

 

“Lucy, are you alright?”

 

“E…” The face. It was his.

 

“What?”

 

“E…” It jumped on him. It tried to hurt him. He needed help “Ethan!” I jumped on that that was closer to me. A person. I grabbed them by the first thing that came to my hands “He needs help!”

 

“Lucy, what are you talking about?” The thoughts that clouded my eyes dissipated and my sight cleared. I was sitting beside the rail, my rucksack discarded beside me. It was still night and I was still somewhere close to the woods. My hands were grabbing into Quill’s black turtleneck sweater, his hands on my shoulders. The googles made him look like a very funny ginger fly frowning at me.

 

“Ethan, he…he needs me”

 

“He’s back at the house” My fingers loosened on his clothes. I looked back at the darkened woods that extended meters away from us. The unwelcoming wind that hooted out of it, the unforgiving chill it send, the godforsaken creatures that habituated inside it.

 

“What happened?”

 

“An apparition” Quill said, straightening the neck of his sweater “A train being derailed. But I’ll take a wild guess and say that’s not what you saw?”

 

“No” I looked at the skull, which was looking at the woods like I had been a moment ago “I didn’t saw that”

 

“Lets go back to the station” He stood and offered me his hand “Tell Lockwood what we saw”

 

We started walking back the way we came, silently looking around and retaking readings to make sure no ghost would jump on us. This time, though, there were ghosts everywhere; on and beside the rails, some stood a few feet away, some were even on top of each other. But no ghost made an attempt to jump on us as we made sure to walk far enough from them.

 

“Must be hunting night” Quill said, his head directed to the woods “There was some howling a moment ago”

 

I gasped. He was right, there was something howling. Somewhere inside those wicked woods a wolf must have howled. But then, what I saw…

A memory. The memory of the Boy in the Wolf Barn. The flares being thrown, the growling and whining wolves, the yelling from Hanna. Ethan getting attack by that wolf. It was all just a memory from years ago. He was safe at his house, waiting for us to be back. 

But why did I saw all this, so suddenly? I hadn’t been thinking about it.

 

_‘ARROOOOOOOOO’_

 

Howling. Growling. Yelling. Whining. Flares. Wolves! Ethan!

 

“Grah!” 

 

“Woah, calm down!” I had pulled my rapier free and turned towards the sound, but the only thing standing there was Quill “Lucy, what’s happening to you? You’re not usually this jumpy”

 

“I…” The sound had died once again, my eyes cleared from the horrid images that attacked them, and I regained my senses “Lets just keep going”

 

We resumed our walk back, but this time only Quill made the readings.

 

_“You know”_ I jumped when a voice whispered on my ear _“You should probably have heeded his warning, but you did the same as with the one I gave you: you ignore it. If you stopped ignoring others advice, you wouldn't be suffering traumatic memories right now”_

 

“What?” I hissed.

 

_“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t know what these are. It can’t be the first time you experience it”_

 

“As a matter of fact, I’ve never had that happen to me before, care to explain?”

 

_“Only thing you need to know, is that from what I can see its a sound-triggered trauma. As long as you keep hearing wolves howl, it will all keep coming back”_

 

A trauma. I’ve had traumas before, from past experiences, but I had never felt like this; it never came back to a memory like that, specially not one related to the case of the Boy in the Wolf Barn. It was true that since that day, dogs made me uncomfortable, even the smallest one got me jumpy and defensive, but I had always thought that was as far as that trauma went.

 

We got back to the station, which was quiet, but flooded with ghost-fog.

 

“What’s going on here?” Quill asked, looking around “I don’t see any ghosts”

 

“I don’t hear anything” Opening the door of the building, we were greeted by tons of ghost-fog, yelling and salt bombs being thrown.

 

“Holly, the other one’s behind you!”

 

Inside an iron chain, Lockwood, George and Holly stood, flapping their rapier and throwing their salt bombs. Around them, three ghost floated and swung back and forward in attempts to get closer to them. The first one was that of a man, a Limbless, tall and kind of skinny, however, that was not on what your eyes stopped, but on his heinous face. The second was a woman with long, flowing hair, ripped dress and barefooted. A Cold Maiden. 

 

“Quill?! Lucy?!” Lockwood yelled once he noticed us standing inside the station “What are you guys doing here?”

 

The ghosts looked from them to us and immediately lost interest on the others, now slowly floating towards were Quill and I stood.

 

“Come to the chains!” Salt bombs were thrown and the three ghosts disappeared momentarily, giving us time to get to the chains. I, however, didn’t move from where I stood.

 

“Lucy!” George called from the chains “Lucy, come here!”

 

“Lucy, get moving!” By now, the ghosts were all reforming and I still hadn’t moved. My attention was snatched by the third ghost, which stood closer to me; a man, not that tall but very bulky, muscular arms and broad shoulders. His face, a clear scowl, unmistakably on me. However, his body was half rotten, with missing pieces and ripped clothes. A Wraith. And even so, even with all that inhumane look, his face was one that I would recognized anywhere.

 

“dad…?”

 

“Lucy, move!” Greek fire exploded in the room and the ghosts fizzled out of existence. The air was pushed out of my lungs as something tackled me. The door opened behind me and I and my tackler fell outside in a mat of limbs.

 

“Lucy, are you okay?” The air returned to me slowly, allowing me to see what was now on top of me. It was Lockwood, who was now holding my face within his hands. The others were now outside the station too, which had stopped burning thanks to the air that entered when the door opened “Lucy?”

 

“I’m fine” He lifted himself from me and held his hand out to help me stand.

 

“Did you guys saw anything on the rail?” Lockwood asked while Holly took out a chocolate bar and gave us all a piece. Quill told them about the ghost train we saw getting derailed and exploding, along the many, many other passive ghosts we encountered on our way here “Seems like you guys got Ainsworth, while we came across Frost and Howcroft, plus someone else. You were right, George, they apparently are the strongest ghosts around here”

 

“We came back to tell you we should call it a night” Quill said “Lucy, specially, needed a rest, after what happened” Now, normally I would have been very pissed at being pointed out in such manner, but my mind was not in the conversation.

 

“Why? What happened?” Holly asked worriedly.

 

“I’m not sure” Quill said. They were all looking at me, I knew it, but couldn’t tell. Not now, not still.

 

“Luce” Lockwood called me “What happened?” My eyes finally came up to meet them, still, though, I wasn’t really looking at them. My eyes and mind were locked in the memory of all that had been happening, and my mouth somehow didn't felt like talking.

 

“Nothing”

 

 

Even after all the asking, pleading, bribing and threatening, my mouth didn’t opened to tell the events of tonight, and we finally set about going back to Ethan’s house. Most of the equipment was safe, but all our salt bombs and some of our flares had been used on the three ghosts inside the station.

I led the way back to the house, walking down the streets in silence a little farther from the others, who were also silent. Even the skull hadn’t uttered a word since we entered the station, which I was grateful for. I wasn’t in any mood to deal with him. I just wanted time to think.

 

I knocked at the door loud enough for it to resonate all around us and the door was opened after a few thudding steps.

 

“So” Ethan said as we stepped in and left our bags beside the door “How did surveillance went?

 

The others told Ethan everything that happened over a few cups of tea and some biscuits. The derailed train, the ghosts on the station, all the ghosts that stood beside the railway. Ethan was fascinated by everything they said, I could see it, though I was still lost in my thoughts.

 

“Though, we believe Lucy, here, saw something else” Lockwood finished, now looking at me. They were all looking at me again, even Ethan. My mouth opened slightly, but no sound came from it, until-

 

“Do…” A raspy whisper came out of my mouth, making the others’ gaze intensify on me “Do you guys mind if…if I talk it alone…with Ethan?” My request sounded weird to my ears, and it must have sounded weirder for the others, since they all frowned.

 

“Of course, Luce” Lockwood said, his voice a little tight in his throat “You can tell us all later, we should go to sleep now. It is late and they’ll be things we need to do tomorrow” He stood from where he sat on the couch and made George, Holly and Quill exit the living room. 

I waited till I was sure they were all gone and upstairs before sighing and looking back at Ethan, who was siting on the couch before me.

 

“Now, child” He made a funny voice and patted his lap “Come sit in yo grandpa’s knee and tell him what’s botherin’ ya” I scoffed silently.

 

“Ethan…you remember what happened on the Boy in the Wolf Barn, better than me, you told the story just yesterday…”

 

“Yes, and…?”

 

“I…had a flashback today” I looked down “The barn, the wolves, you. It was all there…I don’t know why, but it all suddenly came to me…and it was all so…so real” He was looking at me seriously now “I…I thought it was happening again, and…and I didn’t-couldn’t do anything-”

 

“What triggered the trauma?” He asked in a low voice.

 

“I think it was a howl- wait, I didn’t said it was a trauma” He smiled tenderly and spoke in a hushed voice.

 

“Lulu…I get those too” 

 

“You do?”

 

“Of course” He softly rubbed the scarred skin in his face, a melancholic look on him “That night was something none of us will forget. Its engraved into our memories. The scenes of that night’s events will repeating. Its seems like a wolf’s howl triggers your memories” I thought back to images of the dribbling wolves, the dreadful growling and howling, the yelling, the face of that boy getting attacked. Those were things I didn’t want to see ever again in my life. But I guess its like with the Fetch in Aickmere’s that looked like Lockwood, or the things from the Other Side I saw with Lockwood: things I couldn’t unsee and could never forget.

 

“I see…” My mind drifted from the events of the barn to the ghosts we encountered in the station, and suddenly I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore as well “Remember the ghosts Lockwood just told you about? The ones in the station”

 

“Yes, a Cold Maiden, a Wraith and a Limbless if I recall correctly”

 

“The Wraith, Ethan” My throat tightened in itself and my words strained “It was my father”


End file.
